The New York Herald Newspaper, April 16, 1854, Page 2

Sectety and Politics in Washington.—No. 16, Wasnineron, D. C., April 12, 1854. TO THE EDITOR OF THR HERALD. “ Non omne molitor que fluit wndd videt.” That stuff wound up a polite note which I got from For- ney last Saturday about noon, requesting me to meet him in the private room of a celebrated oyster cellar that evening at half-past nine, to take some oysters and have a talk. I was there by nine. 1 went down stairs and asked a man who was opening oysters if Col. Forney was around. Another man Came up, and says b You want Col. Forney, eh? I reckon you are Mr. Sam Green. It’s all right, then. Just go outside, up the steps, and knock at the second door you come to, and ask for Mr. Ca- rey.” I did as directed, and one of the most polite colored gentlemen that | have met with answered “Are you Mr. Carey?” asked I, al gentleman to whom you allude,” my summo “The ide ‘ ve a note from Col. Forney requesting——” “Indeed; have I that honor—Mr. Green, I suppose. Very glad indeed to meet with so distinguished a | person,” said the accomplished Carey, bowing very deeply. “Col. Forney has a private room engaged up stairs, and covers are to be laid for two—only two, Mr.Green. Of course it is an important affair. Will you follow me?” I did so mechanically, and Without observation. When we reached the room I found everything nice. “There is to be a recherché supper for two, Mr. Green,” said Mr. Carey. “ Reshershey ? Oysters I thought; but I will invite,” and T spelled out Col. Forney’s note. ascat Mr. Carey and read that not t said I. Mr. Carey thanked me for my polit took a seat and thenote. “Does it not say ud nothing in it about a Reshershey supper’ , and asked if I understood Latin. t tod th oysters?” very what has tha’ ned m: got to dow “Colonel Forney But, Mr. ¢ “Oysters are good to pump with, Mr. Green—or to When Col. Forney orders a room and oysters, somebody is to be stuffed or pumped. ‘The miller don’t sce everything @hat floats by his n Mr. Green; and though you are a great corres- pondent in your way, perhaps Mr. Forney means to insinuate confidentially by letter that you don’t See everything that on in detail, which may embarrass your operations, Mr. Gree! Oh! I know Col. Forney. I was the leading barber in this place for fifteen years. I have often had Col. For- ney under my thumb, and I kuow him Mr. Green. Have acare. If you don’t mind he will kill you with kindness. Remember—for here he comes.” ‘At that moment Forney entered. “How d’ye do, Carey. Send up the supper. Ah! Sam—glad to see you. What's that darkey telling you—what do you get new? Ihave got any quantity of things to tell you—perfectly rich! Are You coming in the Union? I know you are, and so I shall talk to you as one of us. By the way, a great many things that I have got to tell you must not be known as coming from me.” | “ Hold ona bit, Colonel. Am I to say anything ?” “ Not necessary at all. Will you take anything ¢’” “ Not a drop.” “ Look here, Sam, you have made some abomi- nable blunders in your letters. You will be better posted now that Iam backing you up. I can keep you as straight as a loon’s leg.” “ Perhaps you will be so good as to explain when T have blundered, sir. All that I have written, sir, have been facts.” “Don't flare up, Sam, and put yourself in the family—I mean keep cool. You are generally right in your letiers but not in the complete details. Now, about Clemens, and what Frank—the Presi- dent, I mean—said to him: you didn’t get at the bottom of that matter. It’s a devilish good joke, by howay, but Frank—the President, I mean—got out f his latitude. John Van Buren was along with jlemens,and Frank—the President, I mean—used is Northern talk, forgetting, don't you see, that jflemens was a Southern man, and listening atten- ively to every blamed word Frank—the President, 1 mean—said, eh?” “That was rich; but it don’t amount to much. You cool men can read the President.” “T can, but you don’t. My God! Sam, if you knew what trouble | have had to keep that man respect- able and straight, you would pity me, Sam. He is eternally putting his foot into it—getting into some sort of stew. By the way, how will you have your rs—stewed, fried, , roasted, or how ?”” ‘o on—never mind the oysters just at present.” “T have to watch him like achild. Hangit,Sam, Ihave to quietly keep adozen watching him. Ou a week ago I had the cursedest row you ever hear stuff with. “What was it, Colonel?” ss “You remember that blamed old water reservoir fountain, &c., in the grounds fronting the White House ?” ‘ “Very well indeed; what was the matter with ec Why the President took into his precious head | Rr it created a miasmi, and that as he was going to be here for eighe years, he would have it filled up. Itcost the government about $30,000 to make t.” i understand.” «Well, Frank ordered Mr. Breckenridge, the Super- | intendent, to have it filled up. It was done Sam, and that costa cool $9,000 more. In making the charge this fool of a fellow makes out the bills stating the exact facts. Frank--the President, should soy—told him to alter the bill, and have it read dif- fetent—call it incidental improvement money, or something of the sort. Breckenridge refused; and do you know that I have had to ran from Dan to Bersheeba, night and day, to keep the whole transac- tions out of the cursed papers? “Tndeed, you do have a hard time. But why did the President wish that the real facts should be suppressed and a false statement made by the man who had charge of the matter?” “Oh, his blamed foolishness. He has got a pre- sterous idea in his head, Sam, that he has achance fo be re-elected again, and, thought that the loss and cost of $39,000 would be raked up, and called White House extravagance, like Ogle, of Pennsylvania did, when he gave Van Buren dickens down the banks about the gold spoons.” “Why don't you go out more, Sam? I don’t see you around as much as you ought to be, and as much as you must be if you come in the Union to assist me. I keep travelling. Why, the other day Iwas ata funeral in the morning, and at a party given by the Brazilian Minister in the evening.” “ Hold on, Forney. I've heard enough. 1 under- stand something now. Thatis what the poet meaat when he wrote ‘from grave to gay,’ eh ¢ “Oh, Sam. Joking upon serious subjects. Grave —that is the funeral—graveyard—and gay : the party in the evening. Not bad, Samuel, my boy; but my dear child, don’t open your eyes so big. I was not alene. Hundreds of gentlemen and a great many ladies that met at the funeral met at the Brazilian Minister's party in the evening. People will die ; but the hive ones must keep moving. You ain’t half awake about that Gadsden treaty. Do you know Col. Jem Gadsden? Can't he swear? Didn't he give particular fits in that line to Frank—the Presi- | oe) I mean—one nice morning? Ohno! certainly | pot. a“ was all that about ; come Forney, let us in in that pee Say you will go | the treaty in the Hznatp?” “You don’t understand me. I don’t want any interest. What does itall mean? What is this Sloo business, and the Garrey grant, and all that?” be , they are all the same. The Sloo crowd are in one as much as in the other ; if the Garrey succeeds its all right, and if the Sloo succeeds we are all fast and hunk—Hargous, Harris, and the whole of us. .We are bound to win, no mat- ter what tarns up trumps. Didn’t we come the gag over old Marcy and Frank—the President, I mean— beautifully? ‘Oh no! of course not.” “ Did or did not old Marcy instruct Gadsden to tnake that treaty, or not?” | iy deed he did not. He didn’t know until the grass was all cut and dried, and then the old buster did flare out some. He did, Treckon, but then it was too late. The child was | born and christened ‘ The Gadsden ‘Treaty.’ That's how it come, Sam, that old Marcy denied so stoutly | “ Really Sam, would you like a di the word and youcan have it, ie 3 that there was any treaty when the Heraup an- nounced there was one made. Gadsden came home, as he with fi colors and six feathers in | his tray cap. Old Marcy gave him special jesse, him down a foot when he at the De- partment of State, and then Gadsden told what | Ward did and raid. | what to say?” Then was it when Srank—the President—was | d. He was as innocent as a babe unborn. He | | Ward's commission, and a namesake of yours li correct instructions to Ward, eh?” +t why did Mr. Davis—” hh, shut up, Sam, don’t apy 80 infernal wt before me, if your name is Green, Davia | Heraxp. trump card. He knows upon which side his bread is butte red, and money ain't 80 down in Mississippi that any of her sons can a to throw away the chances to make a big % Well, Colonel, yaar a ns Tasty —o aad Where do you allexpect to go 2 4 To purmatode of course. But we shall all, of us, I hope, delay our departure as long as practicable and keep ‘a stiff upper lip in the meantime. ‘ Never say die.’ That's my motto, while there is anything to be made. What are you so terribly down on the Presi- dent for? He is a good fellow—he is a gentlemanly fellow. Suppose he does smile occasionally—suppose he does play dominces a little—or, suppose he was tohve * * * * We all have got our little weaknesses. Because a man is President, is he to deprive himself of y innocent enjoyment. No Sirree, hos, he is not. The only thing [blame Frank for—the President, is, he mucks things so in- fernally. Only the other day John McKeon of New York, was on here. The President had him up here, talked “hard” at him lik that he had heard John Coc ton, and asked Mr. McKeon if it was 80?” to him went Frank, and told him how complete- had bamboozled John McKeon,” rd.” Awkward? It was imprudent; but it gave mea great | deal of bother to keep McKeon from finding out the | double game. i Frank is constantly doing them little tricks, and it don’t pay. Talk about my being a favorite with the President—why, he owes me ever} thing. If 1 did not manage things for him, and | keep all straight, Ido believe he would have been hooted oyt of Washington, Sam, by the hack di 3, the only independent class of the population. But now let’s have our oysters; e comes my re- spected coloi ad, M ey. Silence reigned for some time, and Forney took a drink, and then came the oysters, got up in ; and for two hours after- wards nd [ smoked and he told ne more about gamblers, pickpockets, high aad w ler thieves, th: in my new and comprehensive — philosophy dreamed of. nt sty Forney drank ‘a I, , ever Forney is posted—I will say that of him—Ool. For- ney is gveat upon those subjects. His position at the White House, and his berth in Congress gives bam ce to be well posted upon all of those interesting topics of discussion, which are more interesting told at an oyst pper than to a select and choice crowd of Sunday readers of the It had reached the small hours of morn- ing before we parted, and when we did so, it was with a promise to be at my room in the evening, to et me know if mything new was stirring. By three o'clock I was ‘in_my virtuous bed, and I con- not go ont at all during brought to my bedside; but into dark, I stepped to go out and take a walk as f bridge.. 1 had not got twenty steps from my ow welling, before I was saluted by a man who was riding up the street. “ Where are you going, Sam’ I turned my head, and bowed it respectfully to the President. He reined his horse up to the side- walk, and put out his gloved hand. ‘Sam, I must have a long talk with you tonight. Where can we go?” “Back to my room, if it so please you. Tam en- tirely at your disposal.” “It does suit me; horse?” Just at this moment one of the editors of a Wash- ington paper came up the street. ‘“ Dug.,” says the President, ‘just take my horse and lead him up but what can I do with my tothe stable. I have an engagement with this gen- | tleman, and J will walk home afterwards.” “With the greatest pleasure in the world, Mr. President. Lam but too happy to serve you in any way,” replied the obsequious editor, whom.the Pre- sident addressed as Dug. you,” observed the Presi “Most certainly not, if Mr. President. “And after you have led him to his stable tell the stable boys to give you a drink,” said the President, and as the horse and his leader walked away he ad- ded, “What a dutiful beast.” ! Vho, the horse or the man, Frank?” “Both, both,” he replied, and putting his arm within mine, ‘“Now come along to your apartments, for I have much to tell you.” entrance of my house, who should approach us but Col. Forney. “How do you do, Colonel ?” said the President. For- ney winked at me, and placed a finger upon his lips, as much as to say “Shady my boy,” and then he ad- ded ‘Quite well, Mr. President. How do you feel. By the way Mr. Green, I have not seen you for some time—are you quite well?” and he shook me cor- dially by the hand. “We were just going up into Sam’s room, wiil you come along, Colonel ? “With great pleasure, but perhaps you have some- thing private ?” “Oh, nothing but what you may hear, for you know I regard you as my second self, and Sam knows that ualso;”’ and we went up into my little crib of a place. As soon as we entered the room the President took off his coat, boots and hat, and flung himself on my bed. “ Meke yourself at home,” said I. “Tam doing so; what the deuce did up in that duel business for in your last letter “Yes. What did you mix the President up in that business for?” ehimed in Forney. ‘ou mix me ” id I. ; but the truth is not to be told at all times, Sam,” said the President. “ The truth is not to be told at all times, as the | President wisely remarked,” said Forney. _ ie se you pretty generally adhere to that opinion,” said I. “Sam, don't I look good on horseback?” said the President. «Don’t he look splendid, Sam ?” asked Forney. “Well, I shant say nay to either.” “T flatter myself that I astonish strangers occa- sionally. I always ride close to the hotels, and go down the Avenue, so as to give outsiders a chance to take a good look at me,” said the President. “He always does,” says Forney. “ That's extremely kind of you.” “No, Sam, it is not kindness, It is my duty to do so,” said the President. “ Tt’s his duty to do so,” said Forney. “ That respectable old gentleman, Mr. Custiss, says I am the best dressed President that ever reigned in Washington, and he has seen the whole kit and boodle, trom Washington to me,” said the Presi- dent. “Tagree with you and with Mr. Custiss,” said i Forney. “From Alpha to—Omega, eh? But old Mr. Custiss is a notorious flatterer of men in power. He finds out their weak points, and then doses strong ; but you are generally well dressed. When you get on the patent leathers, and have your hair so nicely curled, | wonder you ain’t afraid to travel about without a guard.” “ “ \ guard—why so?” asked the President. “Why so?” said pag “ For fear the ladies will devour you. Sou must spend a great deal of time in having your hair curled every day? It makes you look pretty, though.” “T don’t have it curled on that account,” said the President. “No, indeed,” said Forney. “For what purpose, then?” “Tt induces thought, and pecs Yar my nerves. While my hair is in the irons my brain is free, and I decide my most important determinations in such moments, The time I spend in dress, Sam, is not I then think of my country and my posi- id the President. thinks of his country and his position,” said patent boots,” said I. “Sam, do you know a man named Col. Grandin ?” asked the President “ Colonel Grandin ?” asked Forney. “| know a gentleman of that name, who was once aid to General Taylor,” said I. “A very tall, grand, sour, dignified sort of per- son ?”’ said the President. “ Sort of person,” said Forney. “ Yes—what of him 7?” “ He lives in New York, but has been on here very recently. He is a good sort of fellow; I like him, but some of my friends turn up their noses at him. I think I shall do something for him. What do you think ? How would it do to send him to Constanti- nople in place of that one there, that Marcy swears | if I don’t remove he will resign as Secretary, and if inister at I thought he would I would remove the Mi Constantinople ?” said the President. “Perfectly right, Mr. President, we would be soif wwe would remove Constantinople,” said Forney. “Well, I don’t know, Mr. President. Col. Gran- din, like yourself, has are his bpd eget = one regard, but as your hea ord Send him to grow weaker and older. ‘onstantino- | ple if you see fit; but I think he is instead of Turkish in bis princi les,” said I. “Sam, | am going tobe frank with you,” said the President. “ Be frank with you,” said Forney. “T hope you always will be Frank with me,” said I. Very good indeed, Sam,” said the President. “Very good, as the President says,” said Forney. “Tt is talked about town, Sam, that don’t write the letters that appear in the HsRAup,” said the President. “It is precisely as the President says,” said For- ney. “T don’t write my own letters, Why pray who is the — that is supposed to do me so much kind- nes “Well, there are several names mentioned,” said the President. «And pry, ur wil you be 60 kind nd pray, 80 kind as to mention the names of the distinguished parties to whom I am indebted, end who -er0 supposed to write my Don't attempt to get on to him. He will throw | uch is your pleasure, | When we got to the | u know as well as I do that it was all | “Name one. «Well, then Col. Grandin is one,” sald’ the Preai- dent. “Col. Grandin one,” said Forney, % “Tn the first place, Mr. President, let me ask you ‘one question wit considered impertinent.’ “ Ask away,” said General Pierce. “ Away,” said Colonel Forney. | _ “Ido not doubt my own identity; pray do you? | Do you think I employ other persons to write the letters which I sent to the Herat ?”? | “Oh no, certainly not,” replied the President. “ Most certainly not,” said Forney. 5 | “That being understood, my honor is not in- volved, and I am curious to know who are supposed to be my writers. You say Col. Grandin is one. |“ But'l don’t think he is,” said the President, “The President don’t think he is,” said Forney. “Who beside Colonel Grandin?” ““\ Mr. Shankland,” said the President. “ Shankland,” repeated Forney. | “ And pray who is Mr. Shankland?” “Tell him, Col. Jack,” said the President. “Tell him, oh yes,” said Forney, and he pro- ceeded to say, “Mr. Shankland used to write for Sam Houston; but he couldn't write Sam's letters. “JT agree with you this time, Colonel Forne observed the President, looking archly at me. “Who is the next candidate?” cae “They talk of the Senator from Key West,” sald the P ident. . “Yes, Key West,” said Forney. “Why do people suppose it is him, sir? “Oh, I don’t. Tell him, Forney, Bay be the Senator from Key West?” said the Pr “Key West!” said Forney. “Oh, no ;_he is too much occupied in Henetg to the vast and v interests of his very large and extremely respe constituency. Besides, I personally know that he can’t write anything for Sam, sir, because his time is wholly engrossed in writing those world widely cele- brated ‘ Russian articles’ in the Union. ‘ “You are right, Forney,” said the Presilent. “ Lester—Charles Augustus—or Charles Edward— | has been mentioned,” he added. “ Yes, the President is perfectly correct, as usual ; the name of Lester has been mentioned.” it can't esident, “Well, Mr. President, | have met no such man in | Washington. I never have heard of him before. T have heard of and know Col. Grandin, then Mr. Shaink- d, and the Senator from Key West; but I don’t think I have met the Mr. Lester to whom you allude, although I have heard of him.” ‘ “Why, Sam, you must know all about him. What?” Speak his name so calmly—the gr Amer author, Charles Edward Lester, wh» comes here occasionally to arrange matters for the “T don't exactly |, Sam, but I suppose Sisane of-year oar ign it pass,” eaid “Lat it ” said Forney. consider the late elections in Kee Connecticut’ and. Rhode Island, 2 “What have they got to do with me? Look what a vote they gave me. If my name had been before the people of the States I should have swept every- thing before me,” said the President. he papemnnanly you would,” said Col. Forney. “Mad, by hokey! Did you ever hear of Jeremy Diddler ?” “No; who is he ?” “You remind me of him in your political career.” “T don’t know him; is he one of your friends, Forney?” asked the President. “I Know him pretty well by sight,” answered For- ney, leering at me. “Sam, may I go to sleep on your bed for an hour?” asked the President. “And me too, may I ask the same question?” said Forney. “Yes, yes; you are a pretty pair of turtles, and can lie together or singly, as many worthy people in this town can bear truthful witness against Fc Get on or into the same bed. I will go out and take a walk, and you had one of you better lock the door inside.” “Thank you kindly, Sam,” suid the President. “Thank you kindly, Sam,” said Col. Forney. T was absent from my room longer than I intend- ed, and when I returned I found that the democratic twins had gloped. It was 11 P. M. Tuk Man Wor Nominarap Franx Pierce. Curious Letter from the New York Corres- pondent of the Lo T ‘8, On tire State of Public Opinion in the ed States. [From the London Times, March 9.) New York, Feb. 21, 1854. Tt is now t » which We haye go long been prepared to see b ja and the rest of Europe has come, The * of ninety-nine men out of one hundred on our continent are with ‘England and France, and all who will g to the rescue of the Turk. Our best syn will be heralded on our shores with no less enthusiasm than they will on the shores of Britain, There is a deeper sentiment, however, stirred up in the bosoms of our peo- ple than mere sympathy for the Western Powers eoming 1o the aid of the Sultan; there is a special sympathy felt by the Americans for the fortunes of the British nation | that is not felt for France, bravely and generously as she | may now be acting. New York Heravp and London Times, and writes | the powerful leaders of both those papers ; besides editing the Evening Mirror, owned by Hiram Ful- ler, and the Home Journa., .f Gen, George P. Morris. Why, you amaze me, Sam,” said the President. «You amaze Gen. Pierce, Sam %”’ said Forney. “Well, Mr. President, all I can say is, that if am to lose my identity in thecrowd, I prefer it to be found and used by $ = * be Them’s my piivate senti “You are right, Sam “The F ent si Forney. “Sam ask ents publicly expressed.” exclaimed the President. are right, Sam,” repeated do you know John McKeon, of New York?” sident. , Sam, do you know John McKeon?” asked Forney winking at me. “T have seen him.” “What do you think of him “Yes, that is it?” said Forney. ¥ “Y don’t want to answer you, for reasons which [ have.” | «Tam very intimate with him. He has a great deal of iniiience among the Hards,” said the Pre- sident. | “Hards!” said Forney. \ “T saw him here, and saw you were very thick with him, and I should like to know what political dead head you are not thick with. There is some magnetic influence that attracts a President without a party to honorable dead heads. John Tyler went to his death on dead heads. Every old used-up po- | litical party hack that he could get into his sup- | baad he was after with a perfect looseness. John | McKeon counted one when he had a vote in Con- es8. “Well, upon my soul, Sam, you do talk plain.” “Stuffer.” “Who do you call stuffer,” asked the President. “Yes, who are the stuffers?” asked Forney. “Forney is stuffer No 1. I could enumerate twen- ty-one stuffers that float in your atmosphere, that are in reality leeches. They lie to you in every way and shape. They tell you that you are what you are not. They make you believe you have falfiiled your high mission, when you have not. They tell said the President. | you that you will be the next President, when you. uave not a living chance, and you will leave the o!- | fice an overthrown man, unless you change your tactics,’ “Sam, stop. Do you know what the Bible says, ‘It is great to have a giant’sstrength, but not to try ton like a giant.’ That’s the way I feel towards you. I know my power, and I listen to you because you cannot hurt me. I shall be nominated unani- | mously, and elected by acclamation in 1856,” said | the President. | é ; | “The President has hit the nail on the head,” said Forney. “Mania, by Jupiter.” “What is that,” asked the President. | “Nes, tell the President,” said Forney. “You have got the mania—thé Presidential ma- | nia, as sure as my name is Sam Green, Jr.” Politicians have sometimes attempt ed, on both sides of the water, to stir up some hostility between the two great branches of the Anglo-Saxon race; but they have most signally failed, It is all a vain work without’some enormous provocation, and I might add, a series of provocations, to disturb’ or interrupt that cep flow of symp&ethy which passes from England to America and from’ America to England. France | may be convulsed by a domestic revolution, and ali | flag o} | us go often that we have a right to think so. | body in America reads; in England this cannot be “Explain yourself, Sam. I don’t understand you,” | said the President. ine said Forney. “Well, I willtry. Every President, when he gets elected, thinks he is another Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, or Jackson, and goes in for an- other term, as they did. That is the first symptom. The second is to believe every lickspittle that en- courages that belief; and the third symptom is to place the action of the Rovere under the indi- rect control of these lying lickspittles. Oh, you have got it bad, and I am afraid there is but one cure; that is to witness the bc fete of your successor. ‘Then look around, and try to find a Pre- sidential stuffer.” “Sam, I can convince you that my chances are not only good, but sure. Listen to what Pierce Butler told me, and it will prove that [ must be elected again. d - = Ls af . “ Are you convinced ?” asked Col. Forney. “T cave in, Mr. President. Its a new idea.” “Don’t you perceive, Sam? Why, its a sure thing. It’s as certain as that two and two make four. Then, again, you know how I got my nomi- nation?” said the President. “Sure,” said Col. Forney. “Yes, yes; but that dodge can’t be tried twice. It’s old now. You can’t have no Edmund Burke moving round, telling abolitionists that you are with them, and free soilers that you are all right, and fee a men that you are ‘more than right.” |, no.’ ‘1 am not answerable for what Ned Burke said?” | The President is not responsible,” said Forney. | “You was a free soiler, and Burke knew it. He etter! the Southern men, and now he tells the ruth. | “Tdon’t care. I have got rid of that horrid scar- let letter business by my course on Nebraska. I rather think I used avo Heracp lance then, eh! took wind out of the HkRALD’s sails on that tack, | eh! Mr. Sam?” said the President. “Exactly #0, Mr. President,” said Col. Forney. And here the President laughed fit to kill himself; | at last he recovered, and says he, ‘Sam, mum’s the word; but I must tell you how I come it over these fellows from the other end occasionally. One of the members of the House called on me a few days since, and I got him to talk about Nebraska. Says he ‘What is your real opinion of that bill, Mr. President?’ ‘Well, sir,’ said I, ‘the bill of Mr. Douglas, as originally introduced, I regard as @ very proper bill; in fact, a bill that we could all support. The amendments, or at least a portion of them, are Sierk oe any and wise, and I must confess, and I say it with great frankness, that al- though there are many and varied opinions as to the proper course, yet I agree with some, and in reference to the others it requires thought and dence. If the bill should pass and become a law, with or without some of the amendments, my own opinion is that it will be satisfactory.’ What do you think the member said, Sam?” ae tity eet said Forney. ere the President actually bent over until I tl ht he would choke. — or “What did he say?” I asked. “He stared at me like a stuck pig, shook me by the hand and said he felt gratified and roud to be honored WB confidence and | Oh! Sam, it takes me to manage business, me get one of those fellows alone, and I can wind him round my finger. Yes, Sam, is the course I shall pursue, and the result will be that while there an be different parties in the country, they will unite and agree in one thing, and it thet Iam cular man or opinion, and I lamation. and finally he not tied up to any parti shall be nominated and elected by acc! You will see,” said the President. “T agree perfectly with the President,” said For- ney. That is all very nice, Frank—extremely so. Did Re had a 2 bee called the ostrich?” “Yes; es we call ‘em in New Ham) | shire. i've peg ae They are very hard to a the Be ‘ are é: ard to kill Presi- dent vaya,” said Col. . 2 de ye “The bird I said the President. said hye » — in that queer bird’s a high oad can ran he ia close c\ased he sticks ‘eat satisfaction, enemies don't | upon a period of florid prosperity. Europe may be heaved from its centre, but there will be no deep syinpathy or interest in the struggle until the ? England is unfurled in the conflict, ‘The first British cannon that is fired in this struggle will echo from the Atlantic to the Pacifle Ocean; and every man on our soil Whose ancestors are sleeping ‘in the soil of Eng- land will feel as though that cannon shot were fired from the capital of bis own country, There is so much mis- apprebension in England in regard to the real feeling of the American people, that it seems proper to say some- thing on this subject: Angry passions aro often stirred; politicians and demagogues on both sides grow noisy and Joud, and party newspapers and presidential or minster ial organs rant and rave against President and Queen; and Mitchel and Kossuth, and Meagher and what not, are the order of the day for the hour; but beyond all, and deeper than all, there is a sentiment of fraternity be- tween our two nations which cannot be changed by any event, except one of the deepest injustice on the part of one nation towards the other. It is doubtless true that, in consequence chiefly of our being so far off, we have Deen gittle understood by the English nation. The vest & your statesmen know none too much about the real fecling of the masses of our people. You misjudge But every- said, Americans understand England better than Englishmen understand America; and for the most obvious of rea- sons. Our statesmen, or rather our politicians and edi- tors, and sometimes even our authors, court popularity from a city mob, by giving an ovation to some fellow ike taken for granted in this country that the | you in the contest, and your victories | some serious kitchen difficulties among the psa pr be Jonathan, Some hundreds and thousands of these running away to Canada yearly, and Jesuit- are sowing discord under the profession of school teachers and mechanies, and one of the largest theological institutes in the Northern States is said to have contributed $20,000 the last year to aid the run- aways in their perilous exit to Canada. Now, what is going to be done with this domestic institution? The greatest might must determine who has the stro right. The more Territories and States either party has, consequently so many more delegates and representa. tives, The great stride between the North and South is, whose power shall overbalance the other? Each grasps for territory in order to carry the ascendency. Although it is written that a house ‘divided against itself cannot stand, yet that maxim is easily disposed of as having been done away when. apostles and prophets were reject- ed. Cuba, Northern Mexico, and the Sandwich Islands, together with the Canadas, must be annexed—Spain, France and England to the contrary, notwithstanding. Still, Brother Jouathan’s motto is at all times non- interference, The same rolls flippantly from the lips of the autocrat while he takes Turkey by the throat, And says that 12,000,000 of her subjects desire annexa- ion. What next? A little more trouble in the kitchen. The Indians (filthy copper heads!) to be finding fault when we want to Christianize and save their souls. | Cunard steamer, when the ship hands were slow to come | to prayer, ono § unday, eried, ““D—n you, why don’t you eome to prayer!’ Governor Ross, of the Cherokee ‘na- tion, has issued a timely and most’ solemn protest to the general government that in their scramble for Nebraska, to pull it into pieces, they shoula not violate their sacred pledge to his uation by infringing upon Indian terri- ‘Fen, what next? Perhaps we shall be blamed alroady for talking so much about family matters, but as we mean it only for the family, and by no means to go abroad, we will wind up by saying that, after the day of ivrning and overturning is past, we look for the reign of Hua whose right it is to reign in peace and righteous- ness Edwin Forrest as a Tragedian. TO THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD. With a friend from Washington, who hal come to Go tham ona flying visit, to escape the air of politics and confinement in Congress, I paid a visit to the Broadway theatre to see Forrest. We had both seen him before in his leading clmracters. We found the house so much crowded as to make it difficult to obtain seats. This theatre, as a metropolitan establishment, should be four times as large. The ar- rangement of seats is bad, and the ventilation of the house worse, The play on “our visit—the 8th inst.—was the “Mer- chant of Venice,” with Mr. Forrest as Shylock. A large proportion of the audience, as usual on Forrest's nights, was composed of the hardy mass, or middle class of citi- zens, with a large sprinkling of transient visiters. We must be permitied to say that Forrest’s peculiar line of acting does not embrace the characteristics of Shylock. To win the entire approbation of an audience, | it is not enough to exhibit good acting, but also to carry its feelings aud sentiments with him, manifested in the characteristics of the part assumed. ‘The sympathy ex. cited by the Jew in the earlier stages of the play, when he alludes go forcibly to the persecution of his sect, is all lost at a later period, when every movement is converted into unreasonable and unappeasable revenge; and, when defeated in this object, the revival of his natural avarice and cowardice, manifested in his willingness to retire, if | he could only obtain the principal of his bond, without Mitchel, but they are ashamed of it before the month is | out. We look back upon our ancestral history for the records of our people, as they existed before we existed a6 a nation; and we are proud of our origin, and we atill sympathise with our brethren across the sea. In almost every American home we are reminded in ‘our child- hood that 1,900 years ago the Roman standard first floated on the shores of Britain, Then arace of bar- barians, clothed in the skins of wild beasts, roamed over the uncultivated island. The tread of the Ro- man legions was then heard on the plains of Africa | and Asin, and the name of Rome was writen on | the front of the world. Nearly two thousand years have gone by, and Julius Cesar and all the Cmsars, the senate, the people, and the empire of Rome have passed away. Her population now scarcely exceeds that of the State of New York, while that island of barbarians has emulated Rome in her conquests, and not only planted and unfurled her standard in the three quarters of the globe which owned the Roman sway, but laid her all- sping and life-giving hand on two new continents. ‘osseasing the energy and valor of her Saxon and Norman ancestors, she has remained uneonquered and unbroken mid the changes which have ended the history of other nations. Like her own island, which sits firm and tran- quil in the ocean which rolls around it, she has stood amid the sages of men and the overthrow of empires Cradled by mothers who make us love the souvenirs of the hemes of our English ancestors, these feelings aro inherited. They are the deepest feelings we entertain towards any portion of the earth, except the spot which gave us birth; and therefore itis only just to all our people to say (for the German and the Celt in this coun- try melt their individuality ina single generation, like | snow falling upon a river) that all these Mitchel, and Kossuth, and Bedini demonstrations, and all the ranting of our stump orators, in Congress ‘and out of Congress, and all the harsh language of our 3,000 newspapers abou’ England and against d, have nothing to do with ‘the real sentiment of the nation. These are the feeli with which this country now contemplates land - ing her arm to smite the spoiler. Let the English people remember this, and let our demagogues have all the bickering, the strife, and the invective to themselves, We are speculating upon the influence which the Euro- in struggle will have wu our occidental fortunes. ur commercial world has ly been depressed, except for the moment, with the b psy need We feel that thore is no reason why we should be involved in any manner in this struggle. Our Yankee enterprise foresees new roads and channels of progress and influence, if any portion of the energies of Western Europe becomes paralyzed. Our merchantmen are looking for a large carrying trade. Our manufacturers are calculating Our agriculturists are feverish with hope, and the prospect of a Euro: pean war .bas driven breadstuffs up to almost fabulo vices. It bas given an soe to our navy; and so ive are all our private shipyards, that itis doubtful whether our government can get its new steam frigates built by our People. Their hands are full of commissions from Europe. e agents of the Russian Emperor here in considerable numbers; and it is said on good au- thority that attempts are being made to enlist men on this side of the water in clipper privateers under the government flag to mingle in the European war; but it will bea yain attempt. Some few rascals can be picked up in any country or any populous place; but it is far more likely that, if any small expeditions of this kind leave our shores, they will be up chiefly of Euro- pean red republicans, socialists, and renegades who loft their country for their country’s good. These fellows, interest, destroyed the last vestige of symyathy in his favor. : The world has not yet produced any tragodian alike great in all characters. Mr. Forrest is what we would term hero actor. While he certainly fell below himself in some parts of Shylock, and over-acted his character in others, yet none can de- ny his pre-eminent success in other characters suited to his genius of acting. To hero acting he is in every re- spect admirably fitted. To a fine, full, well poised and modulated voice, he unites a remarkably well formed Physical organization, His large, muscular and well formed limbs, when exhibited in the proper dress of a hero or warrior, convey to the atenle eye the very image of the hero, His walk, look, action and words, appeal to all as the attributes of a hero. ‘The noble sacrifice of life for one’s friends or countr: can be felt and acted by Forrest in a way to carry whole masses of spectators with him by storm. This he has always done in William Tell, Metamora, as Spartacus, Brutus, and in the play of ““Dainon and Pythias.”? In these characters he has no living rival, and he should stick to them, and not seek fame in others unsuited to his acting. The Jowish dress of Shylock concealed his porsonai figure and bearing. His voice and emphasis were good; but in using them in the more vehement scenes their wonted hero expression occasionally gained the mastery and overstepped their bounds, There are some chatas- ters which Mr. Forrest should Rover, act, and others, again, which he never can act—sueh, for instance Hichard the Third. SE It has beenrsaid that Richard died with the elder Kean, and Macbeth with Cooper. Had a play been produced with # Wallace or a Bruce for « hero, it would have been the very thing for Forrest, for no wan could have made a better Wallace or Bruce than himself; or had Shak- are written a play with Caractacus, the ancient Bri- tish hero, as its principal character, it would have suited Forrest. ‘This bold chief, after battling against the Ro- man power for nine years, under Claudius Cmsar, was finally, with his wife ‘and children, led captive in chains | through the streets of Rome; yet, unsubdued, he boldly for the most part, made disturbances at home from mo- | tives that would’ yield very quickly at the sight of the money of the Czar; but they are bad sailors, and the ocean belongs to the Anglo-Saxons, for nobody else bas | mastered it. Mormon View of the Affairs of the World. [From the falt Lake City News, Feb. 2.) It is a custom inwome places, at certain seasons of tho “bes to havea general turn up, and clean out in the jousehold from the garret to the cellar, and the kitchen to the parlor. From a glance at the distant windows of the family mansion of our common ancestors, we per- ceive things look a little like what grandmother to call ‘‘topsy turvy.’’ The door into the long unfrequent- ed room of Japan is half open, and Brother Jonathan has determined to go in and out, anyhow; if the key is handy, very well ; if not, he will dispense with a key, and have the room brought into public use and benefit. He is not rticular to scrape his boots or doff his hat either, for jonathan has become a great and rather rough back- woodsman, who has his own notions about ‘‘ manners.”’ ‘Well, fifty millions of Japanese people is too a branch of the family to remain unknown, and be shut out from the observation and acquaintance of the rest of the great family. So putting on all the lordly airs that he could ever think of, or hear of, he stalks right up to the front door of Japan, as one having to transact the most urgent and weighty business. sovereign of fifty millions must not think to palm off any difference or neglect upon the representative of “seventy-five mil- Hon: If he does, dark clouds of deep wrath settle down ujon Jonathan’s brow,‘and in the language of the « His thoughts on awfal subjects roll : na Damnation and bs wed a no one spect him, for a momen’ depart- ing from the favo Toot ine of “ non-int haeuee with foreign nations! ’” for What next? Why, the ghey fold: loors of China are thrown open! And beho! Aes brcmmael Colmes | om and crowded eon 360,000,000, like two ava- 8 that have met simultaneou:ly at the base of their summits. And, how did we get a sight of this ‘unopened mansion, contai about ono of the ation of the whole globe? Why, bless you, Chris- , without any lawful key of access to that it abode, and out of pure benevolence, of course, with Ber’ battering rams smashed in the portico door, and dissipated the former notion of the invincibility of the Colestial Empire. The down-trodden Chinese caught the sparks from British cannon, and spread the fire of inaur- rection, and sent it through the rast stubble field of human beings until the greatest of all human thrones is just next? Why, the same Christianity, by the samo spiritual weapons of cannon and sword, has broken down partition wall between the Burman empire and Britain. Oh, thou all-; ful Christianity | to bring down £0 many and great nations to the ‘anxious seat, in so short @ time! And what is more—these nations D long have not been brought down to a mere nominal or legal repen‘ance, but it is an unmistakable genuine sorrow, “Fiat next? Why, Turkey, the Jong and peaceful at next Ys peaceful aboce of the and his system, ia too tan offence pure eyes Mr. , the ‘lar member of the British of Commons, says that ‘Turkish are deservedly ‘Austria, to be outdone by her plows has resolved 4 {bien ol Sows "a be Nope, ent focWagen thee te | Monday evening defied the Romans to do their How well Forrest could Sars Gari the speech which Tacitus says he made before the proud Emperor Claudius, seated on his tribune, as follows :— Wetec gy my Debye been answerable to \e of my birth ani e greatness of my profes- sions, rhea now entered this city, not asa aoe but asa friend; nor would you have disdaine with one sprung like myself from illustrious ancestors, and the of many nations. My present condition is as glorious to you as it is humiliating to myself. But Femesey, and I ae men, horses, arms and riches. n you wonder that I did not tamely surrender then ? If you, Romans, aspire to universal dominion, does it fol- low that all men must be slaves? Had I submitted to you without a struggle neither my own fall nor your successes would have been so illustrious. And now, should you resolve to put me to death, my story will soon be forgotten. me, and my name shall live an eternal instance of your clemency.’’ Claudius, struck with the noble freerhs and bearing of his Ee, ordered the chains which bound him and his family to be instantly removed. It is said by a Greek author, Zonares, and repeated by Tacitus, that Caractacus, on witnessing the splendor and size of Rome, ¢xclaimed— worst. an alli “Can ye, Romans! the possessors of all this magnificence covet our British hovels?’’—-[Tacitus xii, aap. 370, if ‘The heroes of Dr. Bird’s Indian plays wore godsends for Forrest, for, besides their heroic character, they had originality, and at once introduced him to renown as an actor. Next to Metamora, there is no character bet- ter suited to Forrest’s acting, than Rolla in “Pizarro.” He exceeds all the Rolla’s we have ever seen, and in it is Fntherod nis inure eesocated: with ‘wich’ bis nam is lau wi Will descend to the future, , ae ‘Theatres Bes Exhibitions. Broal THEATRE.—" ent of Miss Julia Dean has been ver; isusceseful 40 Tur- She appears on the comedy of the ‘Jealous Wife,” Conway will sustain the character of jue, the Possessed,” a comedy in the amusements. Bowery Tueatre.—The moral drams entitled ‘ Corn,” descriptive of life scenes in New York, will en as Mrs. Oakley: Mr. . Oakley. two acts, concludes ; mence the entertainments to-morrow evening, and the; will terminate with the new drama called the ‘Lam ‘4 = mi re has been dramatized expressly for this entre. Buntox’s THEATRE.—Shakspeare’s comedy of the ‘‘Tem- pest, or the Enchanted Island,” with pe of avery autiful description, will again be present -morrow evening. Messrs. Burton, Placide, Jordan, and Miss Raymond appear. The amusements conclude with the farce of “Trying it on.” National TaRATRE.—A new moral drama entitled the “Child of Prayer,” will be produced for the first time to- morrow evening at this establishment. Little Cordelia Howard appears as Marie, and the other leading charac- ters will be sustained by Mr. and Mrs. Prior. ‘WA1tsck’s THEATRR.—Mrs. Cowley’s comedy of a ‘Bold Stroke fora Husband,’’ which has been produced at great expense at this theatre, is announced for to-mor- row evening. The cast embraces the names of all the leading artists. “Love and Murder” conciudes the amusements. Awmrnica® McsEvm.—The selections made for Monday the mana, are the new local pieces—the ‘Parti- tion Suit’’ in the afternoon, and the moral drama of the “old Brewery’? in the evening. Comsty’s .—The usual attractive - a kee Woon's Minerrus.—The new operatic burletta of “Un. = Tom's Cabin’’ is selected for to-morrow evening's per- ‘ormance. BUCKiEY’s SERENADERS.—This band give a very good en- tertainment to-morrow evening. ‘Wire's Sermnapens give their delineations to- morrow night at the St. Nicholas exhibition room. Prorsssor Hart’s Exmisrrion or tun Witors Wort is given every day at 377 Broadway. Granp Concert.—Paul Julien will give a vocal and in- strumental concert, at Niblo’s saloon, on Tuesday evening. massive gold crown, diamond rings, rich breast; Gharine, watebes, 046. ote., announses that be re togive a concert at Niblo’s Saloon on Tuesday next, ae- sisted by several distinguished artists. This concert has, ® particular feature which will add still to the reputa- tion of this young and great artist. like Lists, who, finding no more difficulties to over- | come upon the peer Nene be a ae to give a new element to his ambit pedale, so with Paul Julien. the side of known difficulties which he of a clavier de atill greater ones, recede ecatends ae eee new For one Year this child of a La sworn Peo Inbored to produce a new eee ee would appear it Mat oe pine Hi attempted in the Grst plags; out | amuse: oat | Tt is | about as provoking as it was to the chaplain on board a | and which was played upon by Paganini once EPs lite ander very curious circumstances. We will relate this anecdote, which-we have never seen in any biography of that illustrious artist, and it proves that the heart of Paganini was not,’ as has been said,. 40 insensible to the sufferings and misfortunes of others In I I, who was astonishing all Europe with his success and by’ his discoveries, accomplished a radi- eal change in the art of the violin, arrived in Marseilles incognito, without any intention of playing there. The grvening be arrived in that city Paganini was walk wards the Rue Beauvean, and entered the Café du Com- merce to take @ glass of beer, and read the newspapers. He was hardly seated at the marble table when the squealing sounds of a violin drew bis attention suddenly from his reading. Paganini looked in the direction whence proceeded these sounds, and beheld a man with Hale face and pinched features, caused by sulfering; his ress Was ragged but clean, denoting that his misf tunes were accidental rather than the consequences of vice. When the itinerant artist had finished the air he was playing, he cast a melancholy look around the tables of the café, took his hat and commenced a vuéte. A few miserable pennies, thrown bape sop into the Viclinist's hat, formed the meagre receipts, and the artist thered them up with a sigh. He was Seepeeiok to ne the café to try his fortune elsewhere, and already ‘was the box that was to receive the violin opened, when a person of strange appearance arose suddenly from his seat, and without saying a word, took the violin from the hands of the poor musician, and played on the fourth string of the instrument ihe grand and soul-stirring prayer of Moses, one of the most beautiful inspirations Rossini, ‘The persons present are astonished, they ques- tion each other, the games cease, hardly do they breathe, the enthusiasm is at its height, when someone pro- nounced the name of Paganini! The generous action of the illustrious violinist was understood, and this time five franc pieces fell plentifully into the poor artist’s hat, who'was at a loss to express his gratitude. This is no} all: an amateur éf music, a great admirer of Paganini, M. Gurchard, determined to possess the violin upon which the first violinist bad just played, and he purchased it. ‘Ten years afterwards, in 1849, Paul Julien, who was then only eight years of age, played at a soirée where M. Gur- chard was present. This gentleman, full of admiration fer the precocious talent of Paul, made him a present this precious violin, at the same time saying to him:— ont friend, take this violin, from which the bow of Paga- nini has drawn sweet music, and caused the tears flow from those who listened; keep it as an encour ment, and also as a remembrance of me.’? Paul Julien accepted the instrument with joy, and with that love of the art which already filled his soul, he replied:—*This violin, sir, I will respect all my life, and the day when I shall play upon it, after Paganini, I shall have taken my lace among artists worthy of that name.’ This violin, carefully reserved since that time, and strung with a single string, is the one on which Paul Julien has chosen to execute, on day next, the variations of Mayseder, of which’ we spoken above. Paganini will, from his tomb, silently applaud the bold undertaking of the you artist, and will thank him for the homage thus Pedipred to his memory. From California, March 15, we have the following -— Opera and ballet have been drawing good houses at the Metropolitan during the past week. Madame 'hillon has appeared twice in ‘La Sonnambula,”” and on Friday eve- ning in the ‘Daughter of the Regiment.’? The Monplai- sir troupe have been the attraction on the alternate nights. They have produced this week the ballet of ‘ Giselle,” and two new divertisements, ‘L’Ilusion d’un Peintre”’ and “ A Quarter of an Hour in Naples.” This theatre is now lighted with gas, and is completed in every respect. Messrs C. R. Thorne and C. E. Bingham have removed ‘ from the Adelphi to the American, which they opened on Monday evening. Mrs. and Miss Melby, Mrs. Thorne, Miss Emily Thorne, and Messrs, Mfomas and Charles Thorne, Jr., are among the members of the éompany. ‘The original and complete drama of ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’? was produced on Wednesday evening. It is got up in Yery good style, with most of its characters well sus- tained. A little girl by the name of Anna Quinn, six roe has made a decided hit in the character of le Eva. The Backus Minstrels are still performing at the San 5 mily are about to sail for Lima. Pre- rture, they will receive » substantial well deserved compliment in the nature of a compli- mentary benefit. Mrs. Sinclair has tendered the use of the Metropolitan for the occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Baker, who have amassed a hand- some little fortune in California, are about revisiting the Atlantic side. They have acquired considerable popularity ere. Mr. Murdock has been prevented by indiposition from forming for some weeks past. Weare pleased to learn, wever, that he is fast recoveriug. ‘ Madame Anna Bishop is at Sacramento city, where she made a very successful first appearance. Miss sfatilda Heron, after perf at the Stockton theatre, is now pla; She appeared as Juliet, Mr. Wilder pl Romeo. Lee and Marsball’s circus is also at the capital. F. M. Kent still remains.at the Sacramento theatre. We see no late mention made of other theatres in the interior, from which fact we infer that they are closed, and their usual companies rusticating. The ral meeting of the Royal Theatrical Fand Asso- coum theatre, Lon- -Buckstone in the gene! ciation was held in the saloon of the don, on the first Wednesday in March, chair. The report of the Sec was the funds of the Society to be in a condition, and that the benefits of the As: been realized in several instances. been voted to the relief of the children of Mrs. Warner, and £8 to enable the widow of an annuitant to to America. There were but seven annuitants on the books. During the past year twenty new members have joined, which makes the present number one hundred and thirty- one. Four members had died during the past year, and one withdrawn, The total receipts for the y 21,152 168. ear were 1d., and expenditures £590 16s. 146. The balance, er with the former sum, made the pre- 1,463 16s. 6d. Tho report was most favor- ably received, and unanimously agreed to. The Paris world bas had a profitable theme of discus- sion, A gentleman named Vuntier married an actress named Pugos—on the s' , Durand. She soon resumed and continued her old habits of dissipation, being abetted therein a ew mother, till at last the husband resorted to the rather strong measure of cutting her all to pieces with a dagger. No fewer than thirteen wounds were counted on the body. The immediate provocation was the discovery of a letter, without address, but supposed ‘to have been written toa young Wallachian, of whom he had for some time been jealous. This waa in December. The trial took place last ‘Saturday (the 10th), and the jury acquitted the prisoner. Mr. E. Chorley is the author of the new “The Duchess Eleanor.’? It was not ver; cosmos od withdrawn after the first week. ’ sho gg Covent Garden Italian Opera was to sommence on March: 28. Costa continues as musical director. Mario and Grisi (who deny all intention of visit! America) are oes ,28 well as Alboni, the finest eon! in the world, Inblache, Bosio, Roneoni, Tamberlik, Tagliafico, others. Mademoiselle Amedel, as second contralto, and Hamilton Braham, as baritone, are likely to be en; 5 as well as Sophie Cruvelli. It is averred, with great posi- tiveness, that Jenny Lind will certainly appear. From Paris, March 12th, we learn that the a musical event of the week has beon the début . Marie Damoreau, daughter of Madame Cinti Damoreau, a lady who, it is well known, has created a number of talented uyepie: in an excellent school. At a recent con- cert at Herz the young vocalist sang a simple and charming romance, ‘‘Voi che sapete,”’ which Fes recetred yi homie appl ase. Os by not for the operatic laat present; young, she will prove a valuable acqu.-'0n to our concerts, ” fi a operatic circles | capital The late nally mit have died pi ag , the greater part of which he Madame Stolts, after singing with great appl Der et eon cee cee 0) sth for twenty-five its, at the lil dumidgeie o ee The new opera, ‘‘L’Etoile du Nord,”’ continues to at- tract crowded houses at the Opera ique; the whole of the music of this popular produstion haa jest tom, published, and Musard already formed several sets of quadrilles from the airs. At the Italian Opera was revived ‘Tl Donna Lago,’ supported by the whole strength of the ape The com; of French artistes at present in St. tersburg ave experienced some alarm at the rose Minister of State tr forthe protection to be sRorded them, the an em. sent a Meg gracious iving them I= surance of personal male be that the F po letter of thanks. Madile. Ida Bertrand is about retiring from the operatic boards. ernment would “ ‘be hostile to talent.”” fal artistes sent a polite — the suicide of a beautiful and interesting young wife in that city. The name of the unfortunate woman was Lowe; she was about sixteen years of age. Abouta ir since she married a Lowe. They li together and she band had pahappily reason for believing that her hus! her or to remember and to love